“Good.” He steps back, giving me space to move past him.
I want to scrub the memory of his hands on my skin. Want to unhear that gunshot. Want to unknow that the same man who made my body respond to him just executed someone without a second thought.
But I nod. Because what else can I do?
I make it halfway across the lawn before my legs give out.
The grass rushes up to meet me as I drop to my knees. My hands fly to my mouth, pressing hard against it as if that might hold everything inside, my breath, my thoughts, the scream threatening to claw its way out.
Only then do I let myself process what I just witnessed.
It feels unreal. Like I’ve stepped into a movie scene I was never meant to see.
Except the scene isn’t ending. There’s no director yelling cut. No fade to black.
This is my life.
I am going to become the wife of a mafia don and I have no idea how to come to terms with it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Salvatore
Ifind her on the lawn.
Sitting in the grass in her nightgown and robe, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at nothing.
The same nightgown I pulled the strap down on less than two hours ago.
She doesn’t look up when I approach. Doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
I should leave her alone. Give her space to process what she saw. The smart move is to let her come to terms with it on her own.
But I’ve never been good at walking away from her.
I sit down on the grass beside her. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that she knows I’m here.
The silence stretches before she finally speaks. “When you came to my room,” her voice small but steady, “you could have forced me. You’re stronger. You had me alone. You could have done whatever you wanted.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t. You walked away when I said no.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I study her for a moment before answering.
“Is that what you would have wanted? For me to take you?”
“No… please.” Her voice trembles now. “I just want to know why you didn’t.”
I draw in a slow breath and hold her gaze.
“Because I care about you, Valentina.” The words come out calm, certain.
“I don’t want to break you. I don’t want to hurt you.” I lower my voice. “I want you to be my wife. My partner.”
